Gorgon's Captive
by Unlimited Power
Summary: EU/Jedi Academy Trilogy missing moment. Kyp Durron is a prisoner on ISD Gorgon.
**Gorgon's Captive**

 **.**

The cell on the Imperial star destroyer _Gorgon_ was dark and cold. It wasn't used at all over the years the ship was stationed in the Maw Installation, but not a speck of dust was floating in the small space. The air was too clean and void of any smells. It had been recycled too many times.

Kyp Durron inhaled deeply once again, then sneezed.

Immediately, he winced when the involuntary movement made his wrists chafe painfully against the edge of metal binders. His body weakened from hours of torture by the Imperial interrogation droids. Normally the cold temperature or the pitch black surroundings wouldn't bother him, a long-time prisoner of Kessel, but his inability to move, change the position and relieve the aching or even just scratch himself magnified the discomfort tenfold. With nothing else to do, he just sat there, brooding. The Empire ruined everything in his life and it seemed it would never let him go. Only the thoughts of escape and revenge kept him warm, although feebly.

Then, a thin line of light slashed across the darkness and grew into a crack. Kyp was momentarily blinded, so he shut his watering eyes. He relied on his hearing and the Force to tell him what was happening.

The door to the cell opened with a whoosh of air from the corridor flinging inside. The sound of footsteps alerted Kyp of the visitor. Were the stormtroopers back, just to drag him to another pointless interrogation? Kyp almost wanted to laugh in their faces. He knew nothing and by now, it should have been obvious even to the thickest of them all.

With a click, the cell was flooded by the sharp light overhead.

Kyp more sensed than heard the door closing, entrapping him with whoever came in. Puzzled, he raised his head and carefully peeked through his eyelashes. A hot flash of anger shocked him as he recognized the woman.

"Daala," he growled the name like it was a curse and shot her a furious glare.

She regarded him silently, head tipped to the side in thought as her icy gaze scanned his appearance, assessing him. He shifted slightly, uncomfortable because of such disconcerting scrutiny. She made him self-conscious about the dirty, ripped clothes on his back and his grimy, unwashed body. In front of her, clad in a pristine uniform without a single wrinkle, with that snobby air of ingrained superiority, he became small and inadequate, which only roused his agitation.

"What do you want?" Kyp almost shouted, but his dry throat didn't allow him that; he coughed. "I have nothing to tell you."

"Obviously," she scoffed at him, one word filled with so much derision that his knuckles turned white from how hard he was making a fist. "You are astonishingly useless."

"Then why bother torturing me if you already knew that?"

"It's a precaution. I had to make sure of what information you had, if any." What Daala didn't choose to mention was that they were crosschecking Kyp's answers with what Solo told them in order to catch any lies that traitorous Rebel would spew. There weren't any discrepancies in their stories among what little Durron helped to confirm.

"Then why are you here? Aren't you done with me, Admiral?" Kyp put as much sarcasm as he could into her title.

Daala walked closer to him, unafraid that he would snap at her, as he was handcuffed and chained to a bench. She towered over him easily.

"You are useless, Durron, and I don't tolerate useless men here." She leaned down to him close enough that he sniffed out the military brand of soap she used. A thick strand of hair spilled over her shoulder.

"So just let me out or kill me, because I won't stand this prison much longer," Kyp said, covering up his exhaustion and resignation with false bravado.

Daala's eyes glinted and the corners of her mouth twitched, though she didn't smile. She was too unused to doing such frivolous things, let alone in front of a prisoner.

"No. I will make you useful," she said, grasping his chin. Her fingers were uncomfortably cold.

"I will never serve you!" Kyp protested and shook his head to the side, but she didn't let go of him.

Daala dug her nails into his skin and he winced from the stinging pain. She leaned in even closer and whispered into his ear, "We'll see. I can be very persuasive."

Kyp leaned away as much as he could, but she had a solid grip on him and there was barely any room. He was cornered by the Imperial, with no way of escape, and suffocating with her invasive, overpowering presence. His pulse pounded beneath his papery skin so loud he was certain she had to hear it.

 _Go away, leave me alone,_ he urged in his mind, but it didn't work.

"I have a very special position in mind for you," she continued in a pleasant tone, but it didn't fool the boy who grew up at the Imperial so-called mercy. He didn't respond. "A personal assistant. You would answer only to me, outside of the chain of command."

"You have an entire fleet, you could pick one of your soldiers for that," Kyp said.

"That would breach the protocol," she replied easily. "There are rules against fraternization that I can't break in a good conscience, as the Admiral."

Kyp glanced at her with a furrowed brow. Young and unexposed to the world beyond the mines of Kessel, he didn't quite understand her meaning.

Daala's free hand was icy when she laid it on his neck. Kyp shuddered and the hand slid down, under his neckline like a small five-legged energy spider that decided to take a walk on his naked chest.

"Stop it! Don't touch me!" He jerked away, overcome by revulsion, then tried to headbutt her, but she dodged the blow.

"You can stay silent or I _will_ gag you. It makes no difference to me," Daala said in a chilling tone. Kyp understood she wasn't joking and bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood.

Just to make a point that she was the one in control, Daala pressed her hand to his chest as if taking claim of her possession. A thumb swiped and dug slightly against Kyp's nipple and the boy grimaced at the contradicting sensations.

"You like that?" Daala asked.

"No," Kyp grunted a denial.

She smirked and rolled his nipple, making him gasp at the warmth that shot down to his groin.

"What did you say, again?" she asked with that smug, infuriating expression and Kyp lowered his eyes, flushing brick-red with shame and self-recrimination.

He hated the Admiral, but his stupid body didn't care for that. He really couldn't help it, yet the excuse sounded so weak even to his own ears. He had the Force, why was it so useless now, he raged silently.

A commlink chirped and for a moment the two of them – the prisoner and the captor – froze, looking at each in surprise at the return from their strange, twisted world to the reality, then Daala stood up, all traces of wicked playfulness draining from her features which locked into the cold, professional Imperial mask. Kyp's rumpled shirt irritated his skin, but she didn't attempt to correct it, as if it didn't matter if the whole ship would learn what she did to one helpless prisoner.

 _Of course it doesn't, she's the kriffing Admiral,_ Kyp realized angrily and glared at her, burning with resentment.

"This isn't finished. Think about my offer," she said then exited the cell, taking the light with her. He heard a faint snippet of her voice when she returned the call, growing distant as she walked away from the cell block.

The blanket of darkness that settled over him felt familiar, like an old friend. As long as it was dark, he was safe from Daala. The ghost of her touch still tingled on his chest unpleasantly. It made his skin itch in need for a thorough cleaning from her filth. Kyp could barely contain his disgust with the woman as he imagined what he'd do to her when he'd escape.

He reached for the Force instinctively and slowly smiled. The change was coming, he could sense it.

 _Soon._


End file.
